


Hoots Mon!

by burnerbaby



Series: Fagin Productions, LLC [1]
Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Porn, Humor, Rodentia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26270617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burnerbaby/pseuds/burnerbaby
Summary: The heartwarming story of a rat loose in a porn studio.
Relationships: Thomas Jopson/Lt Edward Little
Series: Fagin Productions, LLC [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1908679
Comments: 13
Kudos: 26





	Hoots Mon!

**Author's Note:**

> groundwork: sol is trans and runs the whole operation; jopson and ned are high fetish d/s; tommy is tom hartnell, who rules. thanks. let me know if you need anything.

“Ah, Christ.” It’s an evening shoot, late evening, later than Sol likes to work, but Thomas couldn’t cut loose from his day job til nearly 7:00. And then traffic, showers, setup, breathing exercises, chit-chat, lighting. Finally, they’ve started on establishing shots of Ned in position when a dark figure scuttles along the baseboard behind his ankle. It’s all Solomon can do not to weep. “My fucking life,” he grumbles. “Cut. Stop it, stop this. The fucking rat is back.”

Behind him, still holding the boom mic aloft, Tommy says, “No, that’s not right, I caught the rat and put it out. Like, far out, it couldn’t find its way back.”

“Could be a different rat,” supplies Thomas.

“It’s not a different rat,” Sol says behind his hand as he scrubs it over his face. “It’s the same one. It came back because I’m cursed by God to never know a fucking moment’s peace.”

Ned’s broken position now. He’s crouched on the floor and carefully extending his hands, duct taped at the wrist, to the creature, who’s paused to wash its ears with its wretched little hands. He comments, “I like it.”

Thomas chides, “Don’t touch it, pigeon, we just got you cleaned up and it could have a disease.”

“The one I put out wasn’t mangy,” Tommy says. “This one’s fatter, though.”

Ned’s voice is gentle when he answers, “I think it might be pregnant.” He looks back toward Thomas. The rat is now sniffing Ned’s fingertips. “We need to take care of it.” To which Thomas nods: “If we can make sure she’s clean, then I have no objections. Tommy?”

“We can take her to John’s sister,” Tommy agrees. “I could get a little cage set up in the front office.”

Sol’s blood pressure has been steadily rising; he can feel his ears turning red to purple. He wonders exactly when he walked in on a village filing grievances with their new MP, all squawking over each other about a new traffic light. At long last he cuts through the chatter, “This isn’t a discussion!” The gentlemen in the room all turn to look at him. Only Edward has the good sense to look abashed, although that might be a consequence of the latex shirt and the light bondage. As for the rat, she’s stood on her hind legs watching the proceedings with her snout in the air. “This isn’t a fucking democracy,” Solomon says to his crew. “We’re not voting on what happens to the rat. I won’t have my bloody-arsed studio be ground fucking zero for the next world plague.”

Edward tries to interject, “But Sol -- !”

“Stuff it, Nedrick. It’s a dirty little criminal. I don’t want it in my spot, and I don’t fucking want it in my frame.” He rolls his shoulders to release an ounce of the tension he’s been holding onto there. “No one in human fucking history has ever wanked off to a rat.”

A silence descends. Sol didn’t realize til now that he’d raised his voice: Now it’s his turn to look chagrined. Behind him, leaning on the mic pole, Tommy pipes up, “I dunno. Pretty sure our Billy wanks off to one every night.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Humor floods through Sol like a drug. His head falls back as he laughs from deep in his chest. Thomas, never one for unreserved expression, joins in with a chuckle of his own, and Ned stifles his own laughter but grins all the same. Thomas says to Tommy, “Oh, you’re awful. You’re terrible. I should get you over this table next.”

“You wouldn’t know what to do with me. Sir.”

Solomon shakes his head. His anger’s ebbed off, even toward the rat, who’s back to shuffling along the edge of the set. He sets his camera down and casts about the room looking for a suitable trap, since none of their squabbling has changed the situation, which is a rat in their scene, where a rat does not belong. In the corner of the room, part of a pile of props, there’s an orange traffic cone that’ll do just the trick. Sol trots over to retrieve it, and as he’s bringing it back over to settle over the animal, Tommy cracks, “Oi, ‘ve you sanitized that since the last time these two used it,” nodding toward Thomas and Edward, who both scoff through their smiles. Sol thumps him on the shoulder with his fist as he passes and tells him, “Settle down now, young’n.”

Looking down at the little creature now, Sol wonders if it might indeed be pregnant. It looks a bit tired, a bit heavy. It merely watches with curiosity as Sol plants it in the hollow of the cone. He’s got some cheese in the staff refrigerator he’ll toss in there before shutting down tonight. If the thing is going to have a litter, letting Dr. Irving take a look at it might not be the worst idea. And then the little ones will need to be kept safe, so a cage of some kind really should be in order, with one of those water things hanging onto the side. He’s got some cardboard at home that this thing might like to shred up into a nest. And it’s not like the studio’s lacking in spare lights to keep the brood warm.

“Ah,” Solomon says to himself. “Bloody Christ. My life.” He turns back to the other men. “Can we get back to work now, gents? I’d like to get Nedward here good and fucked so I can go home.”

Thomas inclines his head in a bow and says, “There’s nothing I’d like more.”

“Yes, boss,” says Tommy, “whatever you say, boss.”

Sol nods and snaps his fingers at Edward, “Back in position, petal.” He picks his camera back up off the floor and settles it on his shoulder. “We’re going from the top.”


End file.
